


Perfection, My Only Direction

by nobetterlove



Series: This Much Desire [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Established Relationship, Loving Marriage, M/M, Marriage, Mechanic Tony Stark, Peter Parker Loves Tony Stark, Silver Fox, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Loves Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:41:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27374371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nobetterlove/pseuds/nobetterlove
Summary: Three years into their marriage, Peter finds himself unhappy with his career. Like the good husband he is, Tony anticipates his needs and things get fluffy.Or - the one where Peter is anxious and Tony is the best security blanket out there.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Series: This Much Desire [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1999591
Comments: 4
Kudos: 92





	Perfection, My Only Direction

**Author's Note:**

> I had such a good time writing 'The Way You Hold Me' and creating that universe that I couldn't leave it with just one part. 
> 
> Now we have Peter's perspective of their adorable little world!

“You’ve got to keep quiet, Pete.” 

Biting hard on his bottom lip, Peter gripped his office chair a little tighter – Tony’s thrusts were pushing him closer to the desk with every grind of his hips. Despite the office upgrade with the promotion he recently received, Peter knew the walls were still paper thin. The delicious sounds of their coupling were unmistakable – anyone walking by or seeking him out would know exactly what was going on if he couldn’t keep a lid on it. 

With that in mind, Peter reached back to grip Tony’s flexing hip with clenching fingers in hopes that the diversion of stimulus would keep the moans from falling from his lips. It didn’t matter, though – Tony knew all the spots and angles to drive him crazy and went out of his way to do exactly that in every moment like this; even when the risk of being found out was higher than most other times. Or maybe because of it.

The professional in him tried desperately to keep a firm line between business and pleasure – his reputation relied on his impeccable mind and the manners in which he treated both the people around him with and the information he presented. He wanted to keep things separate, he really did – yet, Tony posed a weakness within him – despite the resolve, Peter couldn’t ever say no (hell, he didn’t want to). 

And that’s how he found himself with his suit pants around his ankles and Tony balls deep within him, his husband’s hands still partially covered in oil and grease from his morning hours spent in the shop. They were supposed to be twenty minutes into a nice lunch at one of the small restaurants on campus – every other day, Tony took a longer break to catch Peter during a time when he actually had seconds and brain bytes to give. Eight times out of ten, they sat across from each other to pick at and share whatever food they ordered. The rest of their lunch time attempts ended exactly like this – wrapped up in each other in one of the worst possible places for it. 

A dead-on strike to his prostate brought Peter out of his lust-induced thoughts, the right-here, right-now of the moment crashing down upon him. The feeling of it punched an unavoidable shout of Tony’s name from deep within. “Fuck, I can’t keep quiet when you’re fucking me like this,” Peter groaned, his teeth digging into the flesh of his lip almost enough to break through. 

His stomach tightened with Tony’s next thrust, his words obviously amping up Tony’s desire – his own grip on control slipped with every slick sound of flesh meeting flesh. “You can’t just say stuff like that,” Tony got out through a harshly panted breath. “You drive me insane.” He punctuated his words with hard shoves of his hips, the space between them narrowing down even more as Tony’s pace got faster, the length of his strokes shortening in exchange for maximizing flesh against flesh. 

By now, there was no mistaking what was happening behind the closed door of his office. His chair clunked against the front of his desk with every thrust and when the furniture wasn’t causing the ruckus, Tony’s muttered curses and Peter’s answering groans were pretty telling. Peter didn’t have the thought power or give a shit to care much, though – not when he was barreling headfirst towards a most exquisite orgasm. 

The hands on his hips dug in tightly the closer Tony got, his grease stained fingers leaving behind both grime and bruises – the combination of sight and scent one of Peter’s favorite things. Each clench and tightening of Tony’s fingers brought Peter a step closer to the edge, and when sharp teeth dug into his shoulder to stop noises that couldn’t be ignored, he finally allowed himself to let go. A heart-throbbing release smacked him over the head, the feeling of it blinding him for several long minutes. 

Soft lips on his neck kept him grounded through the coming down process, Tony’s stubble and its slight tickle reminding Peter exactly where he was and who was wrapped tightly around him. Coming back to it, Peter took in the chaos of his desk, his most recent papers strewn across it, his pens scattered carelessly upon the floor from the clever sweep of Tony’s hand. He let the aftereffects of physical greatness stick around instead of letting any sort of anxiety overtake him. The shamble around him would need to be set to right, but the moment was consumed by them, by their connection – the chaos of it be damned. 

After more than ten years of aggressive academic pursuit, Peter found himself at the tail end of the bell curve, his excitement for the work not nearly as prominent as it was at the beginning of his career. Though cheesy, Peter’s thoughts were consumed with all things Tony. The romance between them hadn’t dwindled as the years together went by. Instead, they seemed to grow closer as time went on – Tony cared so selflessly about him and simply enjoyed everything about his person; quirks and all. 

And when he thought about Tony, Peter couldn’t deny how all-consuming his passion and knowledge were. Aside from being unfairly good at taking care of him, Tony had a way about him – his thoughts and ideas were manifested so interestingly – so much so that Peter couldn’t get enough of the puzzle he presented. Where some of his previous relationships lacked in excitement and unpredictability, things with Tony were ever changing and constantly entertaining. When he thought about the likelihood of that shifting, Peter couldn’t imagine it. Not when a single day with Tony ever felt the same. Tony kept himself on his toes, there wasn’t a single doubt that he’d continue to do so with Peter, too. 

With the new position within his department, hours were getting longer and the demands upon his time didn’t seem as worth it as they did before. He worked for years to sit in the desk he now occupied, and yet – things just weren’t what he thought they might be. The exploration of information he assumed he would embark upon was riddled with administrative bull shit and irritating bureaucracy that drifted so far from his interests. The shining light at the end of the tunnel didn’t gleam as bright as he imagined it would. 

Unwillingly to admit to himself how much he truly didn’t want to continue on in his position, Peter forced himself to continue giving it his all. Despite hating more than most hours of his day, he moved forward. How did one come to terms with years of work panning out in such an unsatisfying way? And after he let himself admit that he was unhappy, what happened next? He thought briefly about bringing it up with Tony but didn’t want to burden him with such indecision. The man already ran his own business that demanded so much time and effort from him – how could Peter add another set of problems to his pile? 

The freedom in which he allowed himself to behave recklessly in his workplace showed him how conflicted he really was – the lack of give a damn would’ve brought an uneasy feeling to his stomach in his earlier years. Yet, caring about it seemed like more work than it was worth – his job kind of felt like that, too. 

Sighing, Peter leaned into his now cleaned up desk, the papers and such put to right before Tony kissed him goodbye and left with a self-satisfied smirk. The high of being with his striking husband lasted a couple of hours, pulling him through the bulk of his meetings. He even managed to pay attention to some of the things being passed back and forth between stuffy colleagues and university behemoths. Tony’s influence always played a big part in the calm demeanor he portrayed and seemed to be doing it even more so since his shift into the new, more important role. 

When the end of the day finally came, Peter rushed from his office, the movement of his feet faster than he ever remembered from times before. Exiting the building, he found that he could finally breath – the weight of his responsibilities shrugged from his shoulders and unable to pull him down any longer. Long strides got him to his car, his bag hitting the passenger seat as he settled behind the wheel. A couple of routine clicks had his phone connected to the car’s Bluetooth and Tony’s number dialed. Their new house was a bit farther from the university than the previous apartment, so Peter spent the commute with Tony in his ear more often times than not. 

An all too familiar voice sounded across the line after a couple of rings, the warm timbre of it sending a shiver down Peter’s spine. 

“Hey, Petey,” Tony answered, his tone soft, filled to the brim with affection. 

“Hey, yourself,” Peter replied through a long exhale, another heavy mass falling off of him now that the connection was sparked again. “I’m so ready to be home. Spinelli talked for ages about a new form of midterm that immediately got voted down by the board. I wasn’t aware you could waste minutes of life like that.” 

His last statement dragged a chuckle from Tony’s chest – a steady warmth wrapped around him as the sound settled across the cell connection. “The last dinner party we went to, he dissected the merits of the use of an old-fashioned inkwell pen – I’m not surprised.” 

Just like that, the ease in which conversation flowed between them erased all of his tension, the tightness of his muscles and nerves seeping from him bit by bit. By the time he walked through the front door, he felt loose and relaxed, Peter more than ready for whatever the night (or Tony) would throw their way. 

Despite the respite of that night, however, Peter found his interest in his job dwindling even more as the weeks passed. The bright luster of the academic world seemed to dull the further he delved into it. Getting his doctorate felt like a dream while in the trenches of a dissertation and TAing a handful of classes. At the time, he felt refreshed and eager to finally get what he worked so hard for – access to the bigger world of knowledge and understanding. The novelty of it left so many things to be desired. 

And now – he found that he didn’t desire them anymore. Regardless of the fact that he spent his entire adult life navigating the world in the classrooms of first Cornell and then NYU, his soul craved something more. Until meeting Tony, Peter hadn’t looked much farther than the safety of a classroom – and boy did he want to. The few times throughout their marriage that Peter could get away, Tony swept him off to places he didn’t think to even want to travel to. They played tourist in London and drank way too much at an all-inclusive resort in the Bahamas. 

He couldn’t decide what created the wanderlust, whether it was strictly Tony’s influence, but Peter felt a deep desire to experience anything and everything the world had to offer. Many years were spent acquiring knowledge and learning about so many different things. Yet, the times he felt like he was learning the most took place outside the walls of his lecture hall. Perhaps he craved a different style of learning – or maybe he just wanted to see the world and experience everything he possibly could with his best friend. 

Whatever the reason, Peter felt himself drifting further away from the familiar – his eyes set more firmly on anything else, something outside of the small little world he looked to have outgrown. Some parts of him already accepted the inevitable – despite the big promotion he just received, he wouldn’t be staying in the field for much longer. The other pieces of him, though – they struggled with letting go of the years of hard work.

Stepping away from the profession wouldn’t giving up that work – rationally, he understood that. The mere idea of being anywhere else made his heart beat a little faster for so many different reasons. One of his biggest struggles came from the fact that he hadn’t told Tony anything about the thoughts rampaging through his head. 

Despite that, Peter knew that Tony could feel that something was up. In the grand scheme of things, their collective time together was relatively minimal – three years didn’t a lifetime make. The one thing that was continuously nursed between them, however, was their familiarity with each other. Many couples claimed to be best friends, to know each other like the back of their own hands – yet most fell short. Peter felt like they could claim, with some intense certainty, that their grasp on that concept was tighter than most. 

One thing Peter noticed the longer he lived and loved Tony was the fact that there were very few people who actually knew him. Happy, his right-hand man, knew a few more pieces than the rest of the world, but Peter – he got the backstage access to everything that Tony was, wished he could be, and most assuredly wasn’t. Though Peter functioned very similarly, he didn’t struggle with giving up small parts of himself the same way that Tony did. Which – in the grand scheme of things – made their closeness worth even more than imaginable. Tony didn’t mind the curtain being pulled back entirely where Peter was concerned. 

Which is why, after several weeks of struggling silently, Peter finally decided it was about time to finally let Tony in on his worries and next steps – the support he knew he’d receive felt necessary now. And that wasn’t to say it wasn’t integral to his existence before; Tony stood beside him and rooted for him in his silently contemplative way. Just being there meant more than Peter wanted to honestly claim. 

Now, though – now, he understood how much he needed Tony to not only support him but keep him standing on his feet until he found the next thing – or ran back to whatever university that would take him screaming with both distaste and the comforting feeling of unchanging security. For his sanity’s sake, Peter hoped the next step wouldn’t take him careening down the same useless path, but one never really knew. 

Later that evening, Peter got home to a completely lit up house, the entire front entryway almost blinding in how bright it actually was. Squinting against the shine for just a second, Peter felt his eyebrows stay drawn up, a look of confusion slipping across his face. Peter usually beat Tony home on Friday nights, especially those that he decided to dip out of his office a little earlier than actually expected. He quickly shouldered his backpack, the thought of seeing Tony making him feel giddy for the first time since he left the house. 

Stepping into the house, Peter let a soft smile slip across his lips. Not only was Tony home, his husband went to the trouble of baking his favorite cookies, if the smell of fresh snickerdoodles was to be believed. His nose practically dragged him into the kitchen, Peter’s lack of lunch making itself known now that the tantalizing scent of cinnamon and sugar sat deliciously in the air. 

“It smells amazing in here,” Peter said in the way of greeting, his feet carrying him further in the kitchen as he spoke. Sidling up to Tony, Peter pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, the hand not settling on his husband’s hip stretching out to grab two of the still oven-warm cookies off of the cooling rack. “Tastes good, too.” He wiggled his eyebrows, the first of the cookies demolished in a couple of big bites. 

Peter forced himself to slow down on the second one by dividing his attention between the scrumptious cinnamon-sugar on his fingers and the delectable man standing in front of him. When he found his hands empty again, Peter finally took notice of the grains of sugar he left behind on Tony’s skin as he kissed and nipped at all of the supple spots he couldn’t keep himself away from. 

“Mm, hello to you, too,” Tony mumbled after a while, the moments of silently sucking up the touch and affection gone now. “I thought you could use a little pick me up. I know you had that meeting you hate today.” He felt blindly for Peter’s hand on his hip, their fingers tangling when Tony managed to grasp it with his own. “And the taste of cinnamon off your lips, well…” 

Without much warning, Tony turned in Peter’s arms, his butter-greasy hands settling on the nape of a long neck. Their lips met without prompting, the stubble of Tony’s salt and pepper goatee never failing to tickle Peter with every pass and caress. His own hands wandered until they were digging ever so slightly under the hem of Tony’s black denims, the tightness affording him the smallest bit of warm skin against the pads of his fingertips. 

They enjoyed the softness of their reunion until the loud blaring of the oven pulled them apart, a soft groan left Peter’s lips when Tony took a step back, the space between them becoming too much with every second. “It’s the last batch,” Tony stated like he knew and understood the dilemma happening within the confines of his mind. “Go get changed. I know we talked about going out tonight, but I think thai food and Netflix might be our best bet.” 

Recognizing the gesture for what it was, Peter nodded at him gratefully, his eyes linger on the reassuring expression on Tony’s face. Tony’s eerie ability to anticipate his needs never stopped throwing him off in the best way. 

Tired fingers worked at the buttons of his shirt as he walked back towards their bedroom, the garment hitting the floor the first step into their sanctuary. His shoes, socks, pants, and boxer-briefs followed, Peter baring himself completely by the time he walked into their en suite. The big glass shower had been one of the main selling points of the house – thinking about how many times they’d enjoyed the space pulling a huge grin to his face. The walls and door steamed up when he cranked on the water – despite the burning sear, Peter loved to step into a scalding hot shower. 

The floating thoughts in his head drifted away under the warm water. Peter took his time soaping up with Tony’s soap, and then later with the fancy tea tree shampoo that overtook his ordinary drug store variety 2-in-1 a long time ago. The tingle on his scalp let a little more of the stress roll off of him – he appreciated the tactile burn of the oil in his pores and the depth of his stomach. 

With Tony on the brain, Peter dried himself off and tucked into a plain t-shirt and the softest pair of flannel pajama bottoms, his favorite red and blue color pattern slotting in that final bit of decompression he needed to face the rest of the evening. He slipped into his favorite Ugg slippers and wandered back into the living room – which was dimly lit, the main light completely off with only a few candles scattered around to provide that ambient light. His lips tugged up at the corners, a soft and deliciously warm feeling settling over him at the gesture. 

Hands on his hips distracted him from his reverie, the earthy smell of grease that Tony couldn’t quite escape flooding his nose pleasantly. “Feeling romantic?” Peter questioned. One of his hands reached behind him, Peter’s fingers digging into the thickness of Tony’s hair. He gripped the graying locks lightly, the softness there adding to the warmth in his chest. 

“Always am when you’re around,” Tony mumbled into the angle created by Peter’s neck and shoulder, his nose pressing into the skin there to take a long, deep breath. Tony’s hands tightened around him for a second, the squeeze something Peter usually only experienced in the heated moments of their burning passion. Yet, he felt no twitch of arousal, just a gentle hum of appreciation for the soft touches and intimate details. 

The TV was already on and resting on the Netflix wait screen, the square labelled “Petey” glowing in anticipation of being chosen and artfully navigated when they sat down to enjoy whatever bull shit Peter decided for the evening. His favorite wine was uncorked and left to breathe on the coffee table, his favorite set of glasses waiting to be used. He loved every small thought put into the set up and must’ve said so out loud if the grin on Tony’s face was anything to go by. 

They were now facing each other, Peter’s hands wrapped tightly around Tony’s neck and his husband’s own settled lightly on his lower back. “You’ve been stressed, baby. Let me take care of you.” Tony used a finger to tilt his chin up, each word punctuated with barely there kisses to his lips.

Peter let a genuine smile slip across his lips, the muscles of his face already a little sore from the now apparent lack of use. It never crossed his mind that something as simple as a smile could retreat without his notice. Blinking, Peter took in Tony’s face, the expression on it affectionate and the slightest bit relieved. 

“There it is. I haven’t seen that grin in months.” 

Then – Tony pressed a heated kiss against his lips, the hands-on Peter’s hips gripping him tightly. A flash of heat sparked between them; the intimacy of the moment not lost on either of them. Just as Peter took a step closer, the annoying buzz of their doorbell cut him short. Groaning slightly, Tony shot him a frustrating wink as he stepped away, his hands in the air in a silent surrender. “We’ll finish that later,” Tony promised, his eyes shining brightly. 

An hour later found them snuggled together on the couch, the remnants of their thai food on the coffee table in front of them. The slight flicker of the candlelight keeping the room nicely shadowed, like the world revolved only around their small little living room – like the two of them were the only ones to ever inhabit it. For the first time in what felt like months, Peter found himself completely calm, his brain and anxieties included. 

“I didn’t know how much I needed this until right this second,” Peter remarked softly, the thought of disrupting the peace of the room with the loud pitch of his voice almost devastating. He ran his hand through Tony’s graying locks, his husband moving into the touch with every slight movement. “How do you always know?”  
It took Tony a few minutes to reply, the man stuck between leaning into Peter’s clever hands and thinking thoughtfully – the slight crease between his eyebrows the only sign of the latter. Like so many, Peter appreciated this part of Tony, the reverence and thoughtfulness that he brought to their relationship. Words meant something to him and each one played its own role in their conversations. Tony didn’t sling them around carelessly like so many others before him. 

Peter let him shift when he felt the slight pressure of Tony’s arm against his side. His husband propped himself up on an elbow, the two of them more equally footed now. “I know you, Pete. I know that you love me and that hasn’t been lacking. But you get home and look so gloomy – like the realization of how shitty the world can be is finally flashing right before your eyes. Don’t get me wrong – “ Tony shifted again, his voice breaking ever so slightly as he wrapped a hand around Peter’s shoulders. “Everyone has to experience the reality of that eventually – I just hoped you’d be spared it.” 

His fingers brushed against what bare skin of Peter’s arm they could reach, the rough pads still something that brought him so much comfort. “I’ve been waiting to see if you’d eventually tell me about it – like you always do with everything else. When you didn’t, I thought a little nudge couldn’t hurt.” Tony paused then, his lips pressing against Peter’s forehead. “I just want you to be happy, Pete. That’s all that matters to me.” 

Like the words were the opening of a floodgate, Peter found tears streaming down his face. Tucking his forehead against Tony’s neck, Peter let them fall, each second of frustration and distaste culminating into this one, very important moment. Tony held him through it all, his thumb moving to occasionally swipe the tears from Peter’s cheeks, the touch always soft, always soothing. 

“I hate my job,” Peter mumbled after a while, his voice thick with tears yet to be cried and slightly muffled from his position against Tony’s skin. “I thought the world of academics would look so much better from the desk I’m sitting behind, but it just fucking sucks, instead. I spent all of that time working towards the ultimate trap. I know it’s there, waiting for me, and I don’t want to fall into it.” 

“It’s frustrating when expectations don’t meet up with reality. Why do you think I run my own business?” Tony asked, his hand slipping to cup Peter’s cheek. “Sometimes, you have to take a step back to really see what you want, Petey.” 

They fell into a comfortable silence after that, Tony never ceasing the loving strokes of his hand across Peter’s skin. His fingers eventually lulled Peter to sleep, the heaviness of the weight he carried over the last few weeks finally dropping to the floor completely to be dealt with later. 

The very next morning, Peter woke up to a hand flung possessively over his hip, Tony’s grip on him tight even in the groggy, sleep-addled mornings. Smiling to himself, Peter gave the strong forearm a squeeze before he got himself out of bed and into his usual morning routine. By the time he showered, shaved, and got into his penguin suit for the day, Tony was just rolling over to slap off his own alarm, a warm and happy look on his face. “I won’t miss the grumpiness, but I might miss the suits,” Tony said, his eyes following Peter’s movement from one side of the room to the other. “You look damn good in a tie, husband.” 

Making sure the bulk of today’s tie (a black, maroon, and silver combo) pressed against Tony’s chest, Peter leaned down to give Tony a chaste kiss, the man’s lips a little sticky still from sleep. “They’re not going anywhere.” Peter shot him a wink, his hands moving to straighten the length of his jacket. “We won’t have to worry about making them dirty, either.” 

Peter left the room to the sound of Tony’s laugh, the sound deep and resounding – the echo of it settling within his chest and keeping him company all the way through his traffic-riddled drive to work. 

Several hours later, Peter walked out of his boss’s office, a soft smile on his face. He humbly discussed how much he appreciated the trust and confidence in him, but in the long run, didn’t see himself sitting behind that particular desk. And despite all of the worry and anxiety, Dr. Loughman came off understanding, the knowing look in his eye a lot like Tony’s the night before. 

“Some people are born for different types of academic pursuits, Peter. You’ll find yours.” 

With those words echoing in his ears, Peter promised to finish off the semester both in his current position and in the lecture hall before moving on to whatever venture came his way next. The thought should have scared him – hell, it did for months before. Yet, knowing how much better he felt having said the words and that, at the end of the day, Tony would still be there to stand against – Peter knew he was doing the right thing, both for himself and the life he planned to live with Tony by his side. 

Unlike most days (except Friday), Peter got home before Tony. He quickly got his suit hung up and his comfy clothes on before making his way into the kitchen to start the famous Stark family sauce – Maria made sure he knew how to make it before she let him marry into the family. The memory made him smile and carried him through the couple of difficult parts of the process, almost like Maria was there, guiding him herself. 

“It smells like my mother is here,” Tony said in the way of greeting a little while later. His eyes were wide, each cheek spattered with a slight pink from the cold of the day and the happiness he seemed to radiate wherever he went. Peter felt Tony press against his back before he could turn, the older man’s hands boxing him in against the kitchen counter. 

“Hey, Pete. You’re looking much better today,” Tony whispered against the shell of his ear, the stubble above his lip pulling a shudder from Peter as he pressed back into the touch. 

“I’m feeling better.” 

Fiddling with the dials, Peter turned off the burner on the stove and turned in Tony’s arms, their lips sealing together seamlessly. “I gave my notice today. I’m going to finish out the semester and then decide what the hell comes next.” 

Tony sucked in a long breath, his hands coming up to frame Peter’s cheeks. “And that’s what you want? That’s going to make you happy?” 

The question brought a smile to his face – despite knowing just how much Peter meant it, Tony still felt the need to ask, to make sure. There weren’t many people in his life that Peter could say actually cared about his happiness, and none with the same capacity for it like Tony. Peter tightened his grip then, his hands squeezing Tony’s hips. “It’s what I want. Our life together is too good to stand around and be miserable in my own pursuits.” 

“Good, then you’ll be open to new opportunities. I’ve been thinking about adding a research division to Stark Automotive. Want to see what I’m working on?” 

Grinning, Peter started to steer Tony back towards their bedroom, the need for little space between them bigger than any sort of hunger for food or further conversation. The simple fact that Tony welcomed him into his life all of those years ago was enough. Yet, Tony had to take it one step further – though he never thought much about working with his husband, Peter found he liked the idea of joining Tony in that aspect of his life, too. 

As he looked at the situation now, Peter wanted to shake himself – how could he let the anxiety eat at him the way he did when the most perfect support system stood by his side? Kissing Tony soundly as they collapsed onto the bed, Peter knew one thing for sure – as long as Tony was near, Peter could take on just about anything. 

Especially the tricky clasp of Tony’s belt buckle.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for sticking around! It feels so good to get stuff down on paper - I'm so excited to be out of my writing slump for the time being. I love you all for continuously reading my work! 
> 
> Want to continue on this adventure with me? Follow me on tumblr (ohwereusingourmadeupnames) <4


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